


If Daleks Were Poets

by vortexofdeduction



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Parody, Poetry, Suggestions welcome, it's technically a WIP but because of its nature it won't ever be "finished" - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:59:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vortexofdeduction/pseuds/vortexofdeduction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Famous poems get a Dalek makeover, starting with William Shakespeare's 18th sonnet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thou Art More Hateful

**Author's Note:**

> If you can think of a poem that should be made into a Dalek poem, feel free to suggest it. Your input is welcome.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Though art more hateful, and more irate.

Rough winds do shake the puny buds of May,

In every season we EXTERMINATE!

Sometimes to soon the Doctor comes to call

And so is our hope for the future dimmed.

And sometimes he defeats us, makes us fall

By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed.

But thy eternal anger shall not fade

Nor lose possession of the hate thou ow'st

Nor death brag thou wand'rest in his shade

As long as how to do a temporal shift thou know'st.

So long as Daleks hate, or eyestalks see

So long lives this, and this gives hate to thee.


	2. No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven".

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I traveled, strong but weary,

Through the planet Gallifrey exterminating time lords galore—

While the people I was zapping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the wall or door.

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my wall, I'm sure—

Only this and nothing more."

 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate growing ember lit up all around the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From their deaths surcease of sorrow—let other races live no more—

For weak people I have hatred, but I hate the Time Lords more—

That's why I fought in the Time War.

 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with more anger than I'd ever felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"'Tis another Dalek entreating entrance to aid me in the war—

Another Dalek entreating entrance to aid me in the war;—

This it is and nothing more."

 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was zapping, and so quickly you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at the wall and door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there shooting, searing,

Killing Time Lords, shouting screaming, like no Dalek had before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only words there spoken were the whispered words, "No more?"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words, "No more!"—

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chaos turning, all the planet 'round me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my gun be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped another Time Lord of the "saintly" days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, stood by my wall, strong and sure—

Stood and grabbed a gun there lying, lying right by my fort's great door—

There he stood, and said "no more."

 

Then this old stranger beguiling my instinctive hatred into rising,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance he wore,

"Though thy face be full of hatred, thou," I said, "art not Dalek-rated,

Ghastly grim and ancient Time Lord wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on Gallifrey's shore!"

The stranger sighed and said "No more."

 

Much I marvelled this ungainly filthy scum to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no alien or human being

Ever yet was cursed with seeing stranger like this at their door—

Bird or beast upon the ghastly wreckage of those whose deaths he assured,

With such greeting as "No more."

 

But the stranger, standing lonely by the great wreckage, spoke only

Those two words only, as if his soul in those two words he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—with his gun wrote those words; I shuddered—

Then I scarcely more than muttered "Other men have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, or I will exterminate him as I have others before."

Then the stranger said "No more."

 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from the unhappy Master whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till the drums beat like before—

Till all around him was the drumbeat, the drums that chose him for the war

Till he died and was—no more."

 

But the stranger still beguiling my instinctive hatred into rising,

Straight I whirled my eyestalk round in front of bird, and man and door;

Then, upon the burnt ground sinking, I betook myself to linking

Theory unto theory, thinking what this ominous man of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous man of yore

Meant in croaking "No more."

 

This I stood engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the man whose fiery eyes now burned into my metal core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

The cloud with no kind of silver lining for the lamp-light to gloat o'er,

The cloud with no kind of silver lining for the lamp-light to gloat o'er,

The terror of the great Time War.

 

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of this war;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget the loss of war!"

Quoth the Raven "No more."

 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if man or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Can I—can I go back to Skaro?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the stranger "No more."

 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if man or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

Tell this soul with anger laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall bring us to our haven, in this cursed planet to live no more—

Bring us back to our home planet, Skaro, which the Daleks all adore."

Quoth the stranger "No more."

 

"Be that word our sign of parting, man or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting—

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Or I'll leave nothing as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the planet, go out the door!

Or I'll exterminate you forever, until you can't regenerate, I'll end this war!"

Quoth the stranger "No more."

 

And the stranger, so demanding, kept on standing, kept on standing

Round the ghastly burning wreckage of the raging wild Time War;

And his eyes had all the seeming of a demon's that was dreaming,

And as he burned both planets, screaming came as he killed Daleks and Time Lords galore;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—no more!


	3. The Daleks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on William Wordsworth's "The Daffodils".

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er burning wrecks,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden Daleks;

Beside the buildings, up in the air,

Exterminating humans everywhere.

 

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I marching on to war

Tossing their heads in confidence as they went before.

 

The humans below them ran; but they

Out-did the helpless men in speed:

A poet could not but be afraid,

In such a terrifying company:

I gazed but little thought

What havoc all these monsters had wrought:

 

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the awfulness of solitude;

And then my heart with fear is wrecked,

As I remember the horror of the Daleks.


	4. If

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Rudyard Kipling's "If".

If you can keep your life when all about you

Are losing theirs and trying to kill you too,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not give up while waiting,

Or being lied about, don't get caught telling lies,

Or being hated, be even more ferociously hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

 

If you can plan—and not make plans your master;

If you can follow orders—and not make commands your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by the Doctor to save unworthy fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on a war with odds like pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the metal which says to them: 'Hold on!'

 

If you can kill large crowds and keep your "virtue",

Or exterminate millions without a touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men fight with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of battles won,

Yours is the universe and everything that's in it,

And—which is more—you'll be a Dalek, my son!


	5. O Davros! My Davros!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Walt Whitman's "O Captain! My Captain!"

O Davros! my Davros! our fearful trip is done;

We've exterminated every man, the prize we sought is won;

Skaro is near, the Daleks I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady steel; we machines are grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Davros lies, Fallen cold and dead.

 

O Davros! my Davros! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills;

For you the guns and cold hard steel-for you the Daleks a-shouting;

For you they kill, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Davros! dear creator! This breaking of your head;

It is some dream that on the ground,

You've fallen cold and dead.

 

My Davros does not answer, his eyestalk now is still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The spaceship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Davros lies,

Fallen cold and dead.


	6. The Charge Of The Dalek Brigade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Lord Alfred Tennyson's "The Charge Of The Light Brigade".

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Dalek Brigade!

Charge with guns!" he said.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

 

"Forward, the Dalek Brigade!"

Was there a Dalek dismayed?

Not though the soldier knew

Someone had blundered.

Theirs not to feel or cry,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

 

Time Lord to right of them,

Doctor to left of them,

Rassilon in front of them

Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

Boldly they came and well,

Into the jaws of Death,

Into the mouth of hell

Rode the six hundred.

 

Flashed all their guns so bare,

Flashed as they turned in air

Exterminating all who were there,

Charging an army, while

All the world wondered.

Plunged in the battery-smoke

Right through the line they broke;

Human and Time Lord

Reeled from the killing stroke

Shattered and sundered.

Then they went back, but not

Not the six hundred.

 

Time Lord to right of them,

Doctor to left of them,

Rassilon behind them

Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

While Dalek after Dalek fell.

They that had fought so well

Came through the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

 

When can their glory fade?

O the temporal shifts they made!

All the world wondered.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Dalek Brigade,

Metal six hundred!


	7. Two Road's Diverged In Skaro's Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken".

Two roads diverged in Skaro's wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And set my eyestalk on one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as great,

And having perhaps the better claim;

Because it had lots of humans to exterminate;

Though as for those passing through the gate

I killed them all the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had burnt to black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how it may lead on to Gallifrey,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere many millions of wars hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one where more people would die,

And that has made all the difference.


End file.
